Desolation or Salvation?
by Fritz Will Get You
Summary: Pyramid Head thought his existence was over after James left, but when a creature that is the spitting image of him sans helmet falls at his feet, defeated and lost, he discovers that maybe he still has a purpose. Valtiel x Pyramid Head? Eh. Take a look.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, it has been quite a while since I've been here. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't maim me with angry things about not updating the other stories... I'm just not interested in them yet. I haven't completely abandoned them, just not too enthusiastic about them at the moment. I'm sure you all understand. As for now...

Okay, so this hit me not too long ago and I wanted to give it a shot. No matter what I'll still add on to this, but I thought that you would all like to read this too, blah blah blah.

**For all of you who decided to tune the above stuff out, at least read this little part below:**

This is kind of a blend between the movie verse and the games. I am familiar with all of them, but if I get something totally out of whack feel free to (politely) tell me and I'll fix it. In this version of Silent Hill there are people at the church (I love their interactions with Pyramid Head :D) and they do roam around the town when it's not all crusty and evil for food. More will be explained later. At the beginning of each chapter I'll try to do my best to answer reviews. And I do have some of an idea where this is going, but some things will be confusing until I get to that point, so bear with me.

Okay, disclaimer. I don't own any of them, nothing at all, but I did make a plushie Pyramid Head doll that is mine. That's it.

Thanks. Enjoy it!

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The streets were empty, but no one dared step out onto the pavement. The doors were unlocked to every store, but no one dared steal from them. Everything was silent as the grave, an accurate description given to the town by its only human inhabitants. But being buried in a silent grave was a luxury few got to have once they met their maker. Few got to escape the foggy dilapidated town of Silent Hill.

He was not a victim of this town, nor was he a survivor. He was a manifestation of guilt long gone, left to wander in the gloom and satisfy his insatiable hunger upon the other poor saps that got trapped with no way out. The humans learned to stay away whenever they heard the metallic dragging of his weapon or saw him walking down a hall. They were smart, but everyone slipped up sometime. Then he would be waiting for them. It had happened once or twice with the more foolish of the bunch, but they were learning. They had even given him a name. Granted, 'Pyramid Head' didn't sound too fearsome, but it was an accurate description.

He had been given a body, one decidedly masculine, and the ability to wield a knife that was as big as a full grown man. Covering his whitish dirty skin was a bloodied butcher's apron that barely hid his toned body. Over his head was a giant metal pyramid, thus providing basis for the nickname. Striking terror in the hearts of monsters and humans alike was a given. He used to have a purpose. He had a reason for existing. But now… he had no motivation. Nothing was keeping him in the foggy town. Nevertheless he stayed.

Pyramid Head's booted footsteps were muted by the mist as he ambled down the road. Up ahead he could sense a figure, hidden by the haze, coming towards him. This was a first. No one had willingly approached him before. He couldn't make out much, but the being lurched forward in an erratic stumble that none of the other monsters could reproduce. Each step seemed to be a major struggle as the creature staggered across the pavement. Even though it was getting closer Pyramid Head could still not make out any familiar features. And he could not sense any fear or hate, only… familiarity. Like he had encountered this creature before.

With a soundless cry the being fell at his feet, upper body twitching sporadically. In the fog its skin was a pasty white with red stains, defined muscles moving under the skin smoothly with each spasm. Its head, however, was a tanned brown color and looked like it was made of some kind of leather. There was no face or features, just the smooth leather and a long seam with stitches at the back. It wore brown clothing that resembled a dress that ended just above black boots much like Pyramid Head's. In fact, this creature could easily be mistaken for the tormentor at a glance.

Intrigued, Pyramid Head dropped his knife and kneeled down in front of the fallen thing, prodding its shoulders with a gloved hand. It twitched a little then went still. Tattooed onto the shoulders were familiar symbols that Pyramid Head did not fully understand. It was the same symbol that marked the floor of the room where he had last seen James, the room where he had died and been discarded. He had thought that the symbol meant nothing now, but here it was again on a creature he had never seen before. One that could pass as his double.

With the familiarity he could sense pain, fresh as newly fallen snow. A physical and emotional pain that ravaged this creature's body like a sickness. For once Pyramid Head felt something that he could not place. He had seen it in the human's eyes before. What was it? When someone close to them lost something, they got this feeling. Was it… pity? Yes, that seemed to be it. Pity. What an odd feeling. Why was this creature making him feel pity?

Something spoke to him, made him stoop down and pick up the lithe body and abandon his knife. He would be able to find it again. Right now this creature needed him. It was an odd feeling, being needed. He was not feared for once. Instantly the being settled into his muscular arms, featureless face turned towards the stained apron. Pyramid Head still did not know what he was doing, but he found himself starting towards the abandoned hospital. The nurses there would leave them alone, he was sure of it, and the humans did not dare venture near such a hellish place.

Both were silent as Pyramid Head trekked to the infirmary. His burden was warm against his chest but it wasn't an unwanted feeling. The fog seemed to part for them and in no time at all the giant dilapidated building was in sight. Just as his boots hit the top steps the siren perched atop the church sang, bringing the darkness upon the two. This happened often, the switch between the foggy world and the Otherworld, so it did not come as a surprise when the hospital came back into view, decrepit and bloody. A few headless bodies lay on the steps, bleeding out over his boots. Irritated, he kicked them away and continued through the glassless doors.

Once this hospital was bright and cheery, full of pleasant staff and a general sense of healing; now it was a decrepit, filthy place full of twisted deformed monsters that brought death upon everything they touched. The Otherworld was where Pyramid Head had been born, where he thrived and terrorized the other tortured souls stuck with him. Every time the humans heard that siren they knew their life was in terrible danger, and if they did not get back to their church he would have his way with them. He had little use for the church and their religion.

The being shifted and twitched before falling still again, arms hanging limply towards the ground. Pyramid Head altered his hold on the smaller body and headed for one of the empty rooms. The nurses were nowhere to be found, which was unusual. Normally the disfigured women would huddle in groups, hidden in the shadows, waiting forever to strike. Pyramid Head and the Nurses crossed paths multiple times but they always ended in his favor.

Various medical equipment were scattered in the halls, many with flesh hanging off the needles and decaying bodies on the blood soaked gurneys. Finally he came to a room with an empty, relatively free of blood, bed with tattered sheets and a really sad looking pillow. With little care he dropped the creature on the bed and stepped back to examine it with minor concern of the growing decay the room had suddenly changed into.

It was pitiful, really. If it had a face it would probably be contorted in pain. Its pain rolled off it in waves, washing Pyramid Head every time he drew near. But it was not just physical pain, it was emotional as well. The familiar tinge of despair was a comfort to him, but what puzzled him was the fact that the only opportunity he had to encounter this feeling was when he was tormenting the humans. This was the first time a monster had presented him with this sensation. Even the monsters borne from human beings eventually lost all emotions after awhile. What made this one so special?

Something wailed down the hallway, echoed off the walls and curled around the doorway as if asking for an invitation to join the party. Pyramid Head waved it off, not caring if the nurses were making their rounds again. He had other things to attend to. This creature was sick and in pain, and, although he wasn't sure if monsters could actually do this, had a chance of dying if they lingered here for too long. This hospital only brought death to its patients. If he was going to have his way with this creature he would have to first bring it back to consciousness, a task that was lost on him as a tormentor. But if the ignorant, weak, feeble minded humans could take care of their own he surely could accomplish this small task.

The scream echoed through the halls again, and a familiar twinge of annoyance rose up in him like an itch he could not scratch. A low growl escaped his metallic mask and his fingers curled in the air, which reminded him of his misplaced weapon. Not that he needed his Great Knife (although why it was great he was still puzzling that one out), but when the others heard the methodical metallic scraping down the hall it sent a clear message.

The creature on the bed shifted fluidly, straining upwards as if bound to the bed by its arms and legs. Slowly it rolled onto its side towards Pyramid Head and extended a misshapen hand towards the bloodstained smock. With a cold shock the tormentor noticed the similarity between his own hand and this creature's. He reached out with his own gloved hand and, almost hesitantly, maybe gingerly, touched the melded fingertips with his own. They were so alike…. The creature's hand fell limply into his own; he resisted the urge to cover it with his other hand. Too many feelings were crowding out the normal pleasure he derived from this despairing atmosphere: now he only felt confused with a strong urge to keep this creature from harm.

Could he do it? Was he actually going to attempt to do exactly the opposite of which his very existence was based on? Would he help this dying, dejected creature? He dropped the hand and watched it dangle lifelessly towards the floor. Was he looking at what he would become? Would he eventually rot to the point where he could not stand and be forced to barely function as this? It was a chilling thought.

Something gurgled behind him, and angrily he turned to come face to face with one of the nurses; a hideous bubbled face with a seductive stained body barely enclosed in a low cut nurse's uniform, wielding a rusty dented piece of pipe. This was hardly a threat to Pyramid Head, but to the twitching figure on the bed this nurse could easily be a hazard. She was stepping towards the bed in her high heels, arm reaching out in a seemingly tender gesture. The creature shrank back from her touch and let out a low, tortured growl as it thrashed around on the musty sheets. Pyramid Head, without thinking, grabbed the back of the nurse's head and pulled her back, taking her neck and turning it quickly with rough precision. She screeched as she died, falling to the floor with a muffled thump.

They could not stay here any longer; with this nurse more would come. It would not be a problem for Pyramid Head, but if he was occupied with the group the still being on the bed could be swept up and taken away in the confusion. Without considering this further Pyramid Head gathered the creature in his arms again and stepped out into the hall. He wasn't surprised at what he saw.

At least twenty nurses stood in the small space, each wielding some form of weapon and teetering on bloodstained high heels. Pyramid Head turned and found more behind him, pressing in on all sides like a vice. He would have none of this; he wrenched the nearest nurse closer to him and tossed her like a limp rag doll, holding the creature close to him to ensure that he wouldn't be snatched away.

Instead of fleeing like they usually would have, the nurses screeched in anger and advanced even more, attempting to take Pyramid Head's burden even if it meant their death. This was puzzling but more annoying, and with a furious roar Pyramid Head took hold of another nurse with a long black extension that came from his helmet, strangling her before ripping her head from her body. In his arms he held the creature, batting away the hands that reached out to grab it. He could see the end of the corridor but it was a long ways off. It seemed that for once Pyramid Head would have to exert his full force to get rid of these nurses once and for all.

As the monster prepared to set down the creature and full on attack the group of nurses a horrible, drawn out siren wailed, bringing everything to a screeching halt. The hall was plunged into a sea of darkness once more as the siren continued to drown out the moaning of the nurses, eventually falling silent as the light arrived again.

Pyramid Head was now standing in a gloomy hospital hallway, dusty wallpaper cracked and peeling over the fractured tile. The bloodstained gurney was now clean and covered with a fine layer of cobwebs. All of the nurses had retreated, leaving the two alone yet again. He felt slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to continue their interaction but the creature in his arms shifted and prompted him back to his present position.

Carelessly he stepped onto the decapitated corpse to outside, pausing at the top of the stairs to stare at the foggy streets. The mist left tiny water droplets on his skin, the tiny pricking sensations the cold made barely registering in his mind. Pain was something he created in others, not something he usually felt himself, and even bullets were dulled to such an extent that he rarely took notice of them and the little damage they did to his physique. No, he was devoid of emotions, filled only with a drive to punish and execute. The lingering need to destroy, hurt, and contravene would never leave.

James had given him an outlet for these needs. With James's guilt he had been able to satisfy his deepest cravings, but the pleasure only lasted for a few moments before being swallowed up by his purpose again. It was an endless cycle. Want, crave, need, punish, execute…. Freedom. He felt free for a brief moment, the moment the life left the souls of his latest victim, free from the mental bonds of his sadistic existence, unbound from the helmet that weighed down on his shoulders for all and eternity. Then the weight would fall back into place as the body fell to the floor, now useless and unwanted, and the want would start again, the want to fill out his purpose. It was an endless cycle.

With James he had been able to create a woman, a woman made of all the man's guilty desires, a woman that he was able to slaughter over and over again. James's anguish was beautiful each time she died. But even Pyramid Head knew that this state of affairs could only last for so long, and soon he found himself in that room with the odd symbol on the floor. That symbol. It was gone now, but every time he entered that room he could feel the design under his feet, calling out to him in his desolate, twisted existence. What did it mean? He knew that he already had the answer to that question, but the meaning was long forgotten in his cycle of want. James had made an attempt to save to the woman again, save her from him, but once again she died, and with her death soon followed his. James had tried to fight back. Luckily he had been freed from his guilt and was allowed to leave with Pyramid Head being punished instead. Granted, a spear through the throat would pose some problems in an attempt to continue living, but he did not die.

Pyramid Head had been freed from the sinister shadows of the Otherworld; however this freedom did not stretch far. The farthest he could go was the outskirts of the town, and even if he left the Otherworld that he had thrived in he would still be confined to the hazy streets of the less decrepit version of the town. For some reason he had not been destroyed when James had been set free, and now all he did was continue to satisfy his needs by using various monsters (mainly nurses or mannequins) or the more ignorant of the humans. It seemed that that was all he was meant to do from then on…. Until now.

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Oh shoot! XD Okay, so I hope that got your attention for more, I'll update as soon as possible. Please, please review! It helps me get more enthusiastic about updating! 


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there, hope you didn't give up hope, haha. Yeah, I'm lame. Thanks for reviewing, it really made me happy when I was having a bad day at school. :D

Oh, yeah, that reminds me: I won't be able to update on a regular basis. Probably... once a week at least, unless something comes up. School is murder.

I don't own anything, blah blah blah.

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Amid the swirling fog and steady metallic breathing Pyramid Head stood at the top of the Brookhaven hospital with his burden, itching to drop the creature in his arms and resume his normal sequences of maiming and slaughtering. But he couldn't. Something told him to help this creature. Was it because he could feel the heat from the lithe body on his skin when he couldn't feel the gunshot wounds the townspeople had given him during their violent encounters? Or was it the odd familiarity that was becoming a constant sensation all of a sudden?

The being trembled and arched its back, pain rolling over Pyramid Head as he struggled to keep his hold on the creature. There was the comforting despair that he knew so well; but coming from this creature it was bittersweet, another new sensation to add to his growing collection. With a faint groan the feeble body settled into his arms again. What was wrong with it? Only those who had a death wish approached him voluntarily; maybe this creature was so wracked with whatever emotional pain it suffered from it wanted to die. If so, it had come to the right place.

With this conclusion he placed the creature on the steps and curled his empty fist. He could take care of this without the great knife, of course, but this was a good a time as any to pick up the weapon again. It wasn't as if he was going to dispose of the corpse like the humans did. Thinking of the humans still loose in the town made the natural aggression flare even higher, and without a second thought Pyramid Head was in the street, striding towards the spot where he had dropped the blade. Something prickled in the pit of his stomach but he ignored the small feeling, instead choosing to look forward to using his weapon again. This was going to be a fast job; since the creature was obviously too weak to fight back and it would be too easy to break.

As soon as he was down the street he knew that something was wrong. The gigantic weapon was missing, and in its place was a thin, almost imperceptible line where metal met pavement as it was dragged away. It was an understatement to say that this was infuriating, especially since he knew who did it.

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"Hurry up! Can't you feel the change coming? It's going to happen while we're still out here if you don't hurry up!" A voice shouted down the street, echoing through the silence with little care of personal safety.

"Shut up! Do you want it to hear us?" This one was hushed, more learned in the dangers this town brought.

"I think we're causing enough noise for us to hear it anyways." A third voice muttered, accentuated by the dull scraping of metal on concrete.

"Just hurry!" The leader of the three pulled on the rope tied around the knife with an enormous effort and managed, with the help of his comrades, to heave it forward a foot or two. The other two, who were strong young men of the church, added their strength in the surprisingly easy task of dragging the monster's sword back to their sanctuary. Up ahead were more sturdy men, ready to assist the rest of the way. Their only danger was the fiend finding out what they were doing, and so far they had been lucky. The sword was lying out in the middle of the road with the fiend no where in sight; all they had to do was take it and leave as quickly as the heavy weight would allow. The idea was to rid the fiend of his weapon and greatly weaken him, and at first this idea seemed ridiculous but now it was actually working.

The youngest of the bunch, Jeremy, gave another heave with a satisfied smile. They had reached the large group and he wouldn't have to drag the gigantic piece of metal any further. He dusted off his hands on his worn pants and looked back down the street, only to freeze in horror at what he saw.

The fiend was upon them, snarling and bearing down with the massive pyramid helmet, hands empty but still deadly. It knew what they had and was going to get it back at all costs. Before the teen could scream he was swept off his feet by a powerful arm, and as his head hit the pavement a spray of blood coated the monster's boots as a fresh corpse landed on the ground.

It didn't take long for the humans to group together, three of the strongest men wielding the sword like amateurs. They waved it up into the air to fend Pyramid Head off before letting it drop back down with a dangerous clang. The monster seemed to consider the consequences of being hit with its own weapon, but whatever the consequences were the situation seemed to be in its favor because it did not retreat.

"St-stay back! We have your weapon and you cannot harm us!" It was the weakest threat Pyramid Head had ever heard over the years of menacing others. He was vaguely surprised that these people had even managed to drag the Great Knife any distance, let alone wield it for more than two seconds. If he had an ounce of tolerance in his body he would have felt a little proud of their accomplishment, but he didn't, and they were going to die.

The sword went whirling towards his stomach and he stepped back right into the weak daggers and pitiful guns of the other church members. These weapons didn't even stand a chance against him, although his Great Knife could cause some problems if he became too distracted; better to get rid of the weaker ones first.

Jeremy shut his eyes as he heard the adults that he used to think were invincible scream while being slaughtered over him, the hot blood raining down on his stained robes. Silently he prayed to the only entity he could think of at the moment, the one called Valtiel that his father was a follower of, praying to be spared so he could go warn the others back at the church. He was so scared.

It didn't take long to demolish the throng around him, and the people with his Great Knife had quickly submitted to his overbearing force. They had all died easily and a little too quickly. Not bothering to wipe off the blood that was going to become another part of his attire, Pyramid Head picked up the Knife, feeling the familiar weight in his hands. A few feet in front of him an unlikely survivor was slowly staggering to his feet, robes stained with his family's blood. The boy turned and saw the monster, reaching out a hand before falling to his knees.

"Please," Jeremy pleaded, holding his father's robes to his chest, "Spare me. I- I didn't mean to anger you." It would be a heartfelt plea if it was directed to someone with an ounce of pity in them, but, unfortunately, it was not, and with a swing of his knife Jeremy was dead.

It did not take long to return to the hospital, but along the way he had to deal with pitiful traps set up by the humans until the siren sounded yet again. The creature was still comatose when he reached the hospital steps, despite the evident danger towering over it. Pyramid Head raised his knife to strike, to end it all and to return to the similar routine that he was comfortable with. Unsatisfied, maybe, but comfortable. He didn't need this creature to keep him from ruining his reputation.

The creature stirred, struggling to climb to its feet as Pyramid Head paused in mid strike. With a shaking arm it pointed at him as if daring him to strike. This was confusing. Before the executioner could attack, however, it leapt to the side, pulling out a rope it had concealed under its robes and strangling the armless creature set to spurt acid at his back. With startling vigor the creature pulled the rope tighter and tighter, deftly avoiding the acid until the monster stopped twitching and dropped, dead, to the ground. As if it sensed Pyramid Head staring at it the creature raised a hand up to him, fell to its knees, and slumped against his boots.

For a second time he was forced to look at the tattoos on the being's arms, and for a second time he recognized the symbol but did not know the meaning. This time, though, he had seen it on the back of the robes of the humans. Did this mean something? With a faint sigh he let the knife clang on the pavement as he scooped up the odd creature once more. If he was going to find answers to these growing questions he would have to go back to saving the creature. And if he was going to do that he would have to….

The unwanted realization hit him all at once: he would have to go back to the church, his only connection to these symbols. Joy.


End file.
